Terry stepped back toward Cathy. He looked down at her. “We could get married.”
Cathy remained silent for several minutes. And then in a voice barely audible she said mockingly, “That’s so pathetic.”
“What?” What did she say?
Nothing. Cathy shook her head.
Terry took a package of cigarettes out of his pocket. He offered one to Cathy. They both lit up. For several minutes neither spoke.
“What are you going to tell college-boy?”
“I’m not sure yet. Johnny’s going through a bad time. He screwed up at school. He was on probation to begin with and then he flunked a couple of classes. Latin and Greek, I think. He always hated Latin. Barely got through high school in Latin and then he signs up for the course.
What an asshole! Never went to class. What a jerk! His parents don’t know yet. They’re going to throw him out when they see his marks. He needs a job and a place to live.”
“Don’t tell me he asked to live with your folks?” Terry said, shaking his head.
“Where else is he going to go? My parents have always liked Johnny.
He’s personable. And our place is huge. Johnny could stay in the basement apartment. Now that Grandma is in the home, she doesn’t need it.”
“They hate me,” Terry cried, flicking the ashes of his cigarette on the ground. “Your parents hate me and they love all-American Johnny. The guy is such an asshole and your parents like him. Have they got dog food for brains?”
“They don’t hate you,” Cathy said. My mother thinks you’re a loser. She coughed, then took a puff on her cigarette. “You don’t say anything. I think they’re a bit afraid of you. It would help if you smiled once in a while and spoke to them. My dad is real keen on eye contact. He’s a lawyer after all. And they definitely don’t like the way you dress. And your hair.” My father is surprised that you don’t have a police record.
“And my mother?” Terry asked.
“Well,” Cathy hesitated, smoke slipping through her teeth. “If she was a little more discreet with her personal life…”
“Shit! They hate me. They hate anyone who doesn’t have a Mercedes in their future. And they love good old Johnny. They don’t mind if he gets kicked out of college. He’ll get the Mercedes the old-fashioned way.
He’ll inherit it. Christ, is this going to come down to who your parents like? Have you had sex with Johnny?”
“No!” Like I’d tell you.
Terry turned and looked at Cathy.
“Well,” Cathy hesitated, her eyes dropping, “what was I supposed to do?”
Terry ran his fingers through his hair. He gritted his teeth angrily.
“You’re supposed to say no! I’m your boyfriend!”
“He was crying. I didn’t know what else to do. He needed me so much. It’s terrible when someone needs you so much.”
“He was crying? He begged you? And you didn’t find that pathetic.
Funny how his entreaties work while mine fall on deaf ears.” Terry angrily walked in circles. He kicked at a newspaper box, sending it into a pirouette before it landed back on its legs again.
“I need you!” He turned on Cathy. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Cathy looked up, cigarette smoke rising up through her hair, a tear running down her cheek.
“Oh shit!” Terry said, looking down Bloor Street. “Who’s that?” Hydro Towers
Mary staggered to one side, then grabbed onto Hank’s arm.
“Steady girl.” He swung his arm around her shoulder, his fingers straying over the straps of her dress.
Mary laughed, her face falling into Hank’s chest. “It’s these shoes,” she said.
“It’s the gin,” Hank responded with a laugh, slipping a finger under one of her shoulder straps.
“Listen!” Mary looked up at the hydro towers above them. “You can hear the electricity in the wires.”
“Electricity doesn’t make any sound,” Hank replied.
“What’s that sound then?”
They both listened.
“Hell, I’ve never noticed that before.” Hank laughed.
“I wonder if it’s in code.” She began to giggle.
“Quiet,” Hank said. “I think I can make out what it’s saying.” Hank’s finger slipped along the strap over the edge of Mary’s shoulder.
Mary could barely contain her laughter.
Hank smiled. “It’s asking who the good-looking blonde with the great knockers is.”
Mary broke out laughing, falling into Hank’s arms. He bent down.
Their lips met. His finger slid under the edge of her dress and tapped on her nipple.
“You sex maniac,” Mary whispered into his mouth.
Their tongues met.
“I hope you have air-conditioning,” he said.
“I have fans.” Mary slipped out of Hank’s arms. “It’s not too bad if you open all the windows. Bloody landlord won’t put in air. Anyway, I’m on the rag so there won’t be any tonight.” She laughed and punched Hank playfully on the arm. “But if you’re a good boy, I-”
“That’s all right,” Hank said, rubbing Mary’s shoulder as if he were trying to warm her up. “I’m not in the mood. The heat. We could talk.”
“Not about my ex again,” Mary moaned, slipping back under the wing of his long arm around her shoulder. “I don’t mind going dow-” Hank placed his finger gently on her lips.
“I can wait. They say that the greatest spice to a meal is appetite.” Mary laughed. “You are sweet.”
“And I’m curious,” Hank said. “It’s like a mystery novel. You’ve told me the ending but I don’t know how you got there. You’re husband walked out one night and didn’t come back. Why would he do that?”
“He went out for cigarettes. Or the paper. Or a quart of milk. Isn’t it always the same story?”
“You had a fight? Am I right?”
Mary nodded. She pulled the strap of her dress back over her shoulder.
Hank laughed. “What was the fight about?”
“We were always having fights. It was what we did best.”
“It must have been a pretty serious fight if he didn’t come back.”
“I don’t remember. Maybe it was about money.” Mary took a package of cigarettes out of the small bag that hung over her other shoulder. “We never had enough. Bill was a professional hockey player. I guess I never told you about that. He was always coming home with bruises and cuts.
Most of the time he was so hurt he couldn’t get it up. Played for the Toronto Toros. What kind of name is that, eh? Toros? Like the team was Mexican. We were always moving around from town to town. I guess I’ve been in every bus station from Tulsa to Hamilton. He got cut the winter before. I don’t mean injured. He got fired. We’d pretty well gone through all his money. Terry was only about five or six at the time. He adored his dad. But Bill couldn’t find any other work.” Hank took a lighter from his pocket and lit Mary’s cigarette.
“He was a fringe player,” she continued. “And those long bus trips with the team can be boring. All the players fooled around, or drank, or both. Bill was good-looking so it’s not surprising that he had a little something on the side. Well, I forgave him that. I was no angel myself.
But when we moved back to Toronto to play for the Toros, I thought we’d be able to put down roots. But Bill was just fodder for the cannons.
After one season they didn’t need him anymore. Twenty-nine years old and at the end of his career and I was still a kid myself. I was fifteen when we got married. I was so naive. Marrying a hockey player-well, I thought I’d struck gold. Turned out to be fool’s gold.” A cloud of smoke billowed out of Mary’s mouth and disappeared into the night.
“We were always at each other’s throats.”
Mary leaned over and kissed Hank on the lips. Hank brushed Mary’s hair from her smile.
“What happened that night?”
